


Modern Age: Inquisition

by SwirliesDominate



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Viewpoints, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, NSFW, Smut, Trespasser DLC, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4838318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwirliesDominate/pseuds/SwirliesDominate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisition is known as the Peace-Keepers of Thedas. In a modern age suddenly riddled with ancient problems, how will the Inquisition hope to restore order? A Modern AU featuring different viewpoints from different Inquisitors as they fight alongside their companions to rid Thedas of monsters one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sparkler

This was it. The pinnacle moment Dolthorn had been waiting for his entire life for. He stood in front of Skyhold, the building that held the world’s most influential group of people in the current age. Even now, in the glorious early hours of the morning, people milled in and out of the giant fortress, seemingly uncaring of the majesty of the stones, the way it lit just so with the sun’s rays, the --

“ _Excuse me_ , but if you’re done gawking, you’re blocking the main entry.” A voice spoke from behind the elf, full of haughty self-importance and on the brink of violence, from the sound of it. Dolthorn quickly stepped out of the man’s way, watching as he carried a stack of to-go containers which smelled suspiciously of syrup and eggs. There was some grumpy muttering, but the man quickly made for the door, sighing all the more loudly when he was unable to balance the boxes and open the door.

Tentatively opening the door for the man, Dolthorn watched as he hurried inside, following quickly behind. “Do you...require assistance?” His Common was rusty, unpracticed, but the other man seemed to understand what he was asking, going on the fact that Dolthorn quickly had half of the food boxes dumped into his arms.

Somehow Dolthorn found himself helping the other man sort out the boxes in the common room, a place currently a mass of chaos as officers and staff alike fought for their breakfast. By the time it was over, and Dolthorn thought to mention his interview with the Inquisitor (at a time that was fast approaching), the other man that had dragged him into this seemed to remember that this elf was, in fact, not staff. “You...don’t work here, do you?”

Glad the man had asked, Dolthorn hurried to pull out his resume, hands fumbling as he opened his satchel and spilled all its contents onto the ground. “I’m -- oh, no.” Dolthorn grabbed at the first paper he found and held it up, catching a jar of small seeds with his other free hand. “Here. I have an appointment with the Inquisitor at, ah…” What was the Common word? “Soon.”

“ _Soon_ , he says.” Reading over the resume, the mystery man lifted his two perfect brows in question, lips pursing with interest. “All the way from the Emerald Graves? Come quite the way, have you? Well, if you are here to meet our beloved and blessed Inquisitor, it seems fit you meet the one who keeps this institution afloat -- myself, namely.” With a sigh, he bent to help Dolthorn gather his things, eventually holding out his hand to shake. “Dorian Pavus, head of information, and occasionally the one bribed to pick up breakfast. Dolthorn, was it?”

Recognizing the gesture, Dolthorn was quick to grasp Dorian’s hand and squeeze it in greeting, smile large and welcoming as he replied, “Yes! Nice to meet you, Dorian.”

“Charmed.” Dorian mused, glancing towards the mess of the common room. “I can only hope you are better than these animals.”

“I will try.” Dolthorn promised, ears flicking when Dorian snorted. “Yes?”

“Oh, you’re adorable. I might as well show you around Skyhold; ‘soon’ leaves us some wiggle-room.” Dorian waved forward, the two men taking a tour of the fortress.

Long since remodeled to fit the peace-keeping force that was the Inquisition, Skyhold still remained a formidable fortress that showed up every so often in an architect booklet or traveling manual with some flowery words about the history of the fortress and the mystery surrounding it. But it had been inhabited by the Inquisition for three some-odd years now, and the imprint of living touches was clear to all that would ever pass through the halls.

Dolthorn frowned in particular to the sight of a swear word carved in the stone near the common room, but Dorian made no comment on it, so neither would he.

When they returned to the main entrance and took a left -- instead of the staircase they were now descending -- they passed by the main desk, a dwarf sitting there and typing away at her computer. Dolthorn quickly signed in and was handed a guest pass for the remainder of the day -- his staff pass would not be ready until the following day. The two men continued through Skyhold, passing the cubicles where the officers worked. Dolthorn only had a moment to glance inside, but the layout was open-air, so he could see all the people present in just a few seconds. It seemed noisy, but controlled.

Onward was the break room, then Personnel Resources, and even further the offices reserved for Financing and Communications. Dorian made sure to give a brief summary of each wing of Skyhold, but it was very brief -- Dolthorn would learn better on the job, or so he was told. But when it came to the Information wing, Dorian made sure to give the full grand tour. “Here it is!” Dorian threw open the library doors, startling both his elven guest and everyone within a 15-foot radius with the sound of the doors slamming open. “The bread and butter of the Inquisition! My adoring love-child! Look at it, newcomer, and be struck with  _awe_!”

Well, it was...Dolthorn cleared his throat and looked up at the rows and rows of bookshelves, so tall they almost touched Skyhold’s domed ceiling. 20 feet, perhaps? In a way, they reminded him of the trees of the Emerald Graves -- but he was sure if he attempted to climb them, they would not hold. Inside each bookshelf were files, an impossible amount, stuffed and cramped and meticulously labeled so they would never be lost in the sea of paper. “It’s impressive.” Dolthorn said, giving Dorian a little smile.

“As it should. _I_ organized -- _organize_ \-- this entire area. Not from the start, but close enough.” Dorian waved a hand and pulled a random file, labeled by what looked like the name of the victim and the date of the case. “It was a bloody mess before.”

Dolthorn found his gaze drawn to the far left of the room, where a few couches had been placed around another grouping of bookshelves -- though these weren’t nearly as tall as their siblings taking up the rest of the room. Someone was resting on one of the couches, a pile of books sitting next to him -- the pile nearly as tall as the man himself.

“Varric!” Dorian had followed Dolthorn’s gaze, and clicked his tongue in distaste. “Stop signing the copies of your books. They do not add value, dwarf.”

“Sparkler!” The dwarf named Varric turned to grin at the two of them, his hand poised with pen in hand. “Nonsense. If you have copies of Hard in Hightown, I might as well sign them.”

“The supplemental reading section is for those who will actually read them -- and I have a feeling you know Hard in Hightown well enough.” Dorian crossed his arms, waiting until Varric set down his pen.

“You’re no fun, Sparkler.”

“Varric, you know I am terribly fun. But you’re scaring the new recruit with all your chest hair. For his health and safety, I must ask you to depart.”

That seemed to only garner an opposite reaction, for Varric was soon off the couch and walking over to greet Dolthorn, big hand extended in greeting. “New kid,  huh? What’s your name?”

“Dolthorn Lavellan, of the Emerald Graves.” Dolthorn cleared his throat awkwardly and grasped Varric’s hand. “It is nice to meet you, Varric.”

“A pleasure, kid. What brings you to Skyhold?” Varric glanced over at Dorian, a single eyebrow raised. “Must be somebody special, if you have Sparkler taking a moment of his precious time to show you around.”

Dolthorn’s ears twitched uncertainly, before he replied, “I have an interview with the Inquisitor. Soon. Ah...Sparkler was going to take me to her office, I thought.”

“Maker, don’t you start that too.” Dorian groaned.

Since the confusion was clear on Dolthorn’s face, at least enough for Varric to understand, the dwarf gave his elven companion a little wink. “Only I get to call Dorian ‘Sparkler’, kid.”

“A privilege that I need to reconsider, apparently.” Dorian turned on his heel and beckoned Dolthorn to follow him out, the elf following after him like a lost Mabari pup.

“Nice meeting you, _Slim_!” Varric called, chuckling as he watched the man turn and give a shy wave. 


	2. Miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolthorn meets the Inquisitor

“You’re late.” Her voice was crisp, sharp, a warning of the Inquisitor’s power. Dolthorn hesitated in the doorway, clearing his throat nervously when the she didn’t even raise her head to greet him.

“I’m afraid that’s entirely my fault.” Dorian called from behind the tall elf. A miracle of the Creators’ will, the Inquisitor smiled and raised her head. “So please just hire him already.”

“Dorian, you know that’s confidential information.” Colette tutted and waved the other man out of her office, looking back down at her desk and the papers that lay sprawled across it. “Take a seat, Mr. Lavellan. Do you want coffee?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Dolthorn glanced around the Inquisitor’s office, impressed by the minimalistic look to it -- pausing only when he saw a picture of the Inquisitor with another woman, two more frames with nugs in them placed on either side. Almost like a family photo. But then Dolthorn heard the snuffle of nugs against his leg and glanced down -- seeing the very same creatures that were in the photos. They were dressed with ribbons about their necks, and were friendly enough to let Dolthorn pet them for a moment.

“So you know as well I do that this interview is merely for show, yes?” Colette leaned back in her chair and folded her hands together, looking as immaculate as Andraste herself. Dark skin, a head of curls tied so carefully back, the tight, crisp uniform of the Chief of the Inquisition...it was a very seductive look, especially when Dolthorn noticed the warm amber and gold of her eyes. “You were awarded the Mark and have an outstanding record -- there’s nothing stopping you now from taking the job. I’m rather happy with this hiring, actually. We’ve been receiving more and more requests from personnel lately. Having you here would lessen the load on Alanna considerably.”

“I’m happy to assist.” Dolthorn said hesitantly, the Common rolling off his tongue like a ball of barbs.

“There is...that. How is your Common?” The question was blunt, but coming from the Inquisitor, Dolthorn was none too surprised. “I know your writing is magnificent -- but I realize speaking is often times harder than writing.”

“With exposure, I will learn, yes?” Dolthorn bit his lip, cursing himself for adding that needless question at the end. “It will improve. I promise.”

“It’s no real issue for me. But I’m going to need you to introduce yourself to the staff.”

Dolthorn shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced out the window to the desks housing all the officers. “I understand.”

“Welcome aboard, Dolthorn.” His attention called back, the man reached over the Inquisitor’s desk and took her extended hand to shake. Curious eyes skimmed over her gloved hands before resting once more on her prim and proper face. “Welcome to the Inquisition.”

\---

They had Dolthorn meet everyone in the common room -- where the entire staff was now stuffed inside, excited whispers as thick as Skyhold’s stone walls. Someone had apparently gone out and purchased banners for the occasion, big green flags that framed the area where the elf now stood, nervously holding a solo cup full of some sort of soda.

Up on the small stage with Dolthorn stood Colette and the other heads of the organization; Alanna, Ebost, and Partha, as well as their advisers Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana. Dolthorn felt so very out of place surrounded by these famous peace-keepers, and felt even more self-conscious when he realized he was taller than all of them -- except for the Qunari Ebost, but that was only because of the height of his horns.

Colette clapped her gloved hands together and stepped forward, the room immediately falling into a respectful silence, except for one last laugh from a tall Qunari in the back. “Today we welcome a new member to the Inquisition. Presenting the very esteemed Dolthorn Lavellan -- traveling all the way from the Emerald Graves, he is a decorated veteran and recipient of the Mark, an award I’m sure you all are familiar with.”  

The Mark was one of the highest ranking medals in all of Thedas, awarded by the Divine herself for acts of valor in times of strife. Each one of the people in charge of the Inquisition had been awarded the Mark for one reason or another -- the Chief had interrupted an assassination plan against the Divine, or so the rumors said. Dolthorn did nothing so heroic -- when you were a sniper, you had more chances to take lives than save them.

“A few words if you would, Dolthorn?” Colette whispered, gently pulling the elf forward so that he could address the crowd. He came willingly, grimacing when he saw all eyes turn to stare at him. He hated addressing crowds.

“It is...thank you for having me, here at Skyhold. I never thought such an opportunity would be presented to someone like me, who came from a place so removed from the modern world. I hope, through this time together, that I can...ah…” Dolthorn swallowed and tried again to find any Common that would be appropriate, but nothing came to mind. He stood there, silent, hands nearly crushing his solo cup into bits of plastic. “Ara serann-ma.” He whispered, panic rising in his chest.

Someone who did not understand elvish seemed to think that was Dolthorn’s closing statement, and clapped cheerfully while Dolthorn’s mind continued to race. A roar from the group slowly built and crested, quieting down when Alanna stepped forward, clipboard in hand. “The Inquisition welcomes you, Dolthorn. But while I have everyone collected here --”

A soft groan resounded throughout the room, Alanna clearing her throat and slapping her pen against her clipboard. “We’re taking roll for the upcoming Halloween party. You have to sign up now or I’m not going to have an accurate budget -- so please write your name and if you plan to bring guests --”

Dolthorn stopped listening as the short human woman continued to address the crowd, his heart racing as the panic built and built. It was only when he felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder that Dolthorn returned to the real world. Looking to his side, he met the Qunari’s --Ebost, that was his name -- cool gaze. Marred with scars and a gaze that was so quietly reserved, Dolthorn immediately recognized the look of someone with shared dysfunctionality. Giving a small nod of thanks, Dolthorn stared down at his solo cup and silently prayed to the Creators for guidance.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how long I'm going to keep this fic -- nor if it will be very plot-heavy. Just wanted to write something fun, and definitely self-indulgent haha. Stay tuned!


End file.
